


In for a Penny, in for a Pound

by hardboiledbaby



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock Holmes (Downey films)
Genre: Community: watsons_woes, Gen, Pre-Movie(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-03
Updated: 2016-07-03
Packaged: 2018-07-19 20:19:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7375975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hardboiledbaby/pseuds/hardboiledbaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Watson could ill-afford to lose more, but frankly, he had lost more than he could afford already. He took a deep breath and began to lay out the last of his cash.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In for a Penny, in for a Pound

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Watsons_Woes 2016 July Writing Prompts Challenge, prompt #2 - Roll The Dice: Have a character take a risk, whether it's a calculated or a foolhardy one.
> 
>  
> 
> _Unbeta'd, I'm sorry about the errors and Americanisms. Also, because it's movie-verse and I can't help myself, there may be some pre-slash vibes happening. Not sorry about that :)_

“So, what’ll it be, sir?” The grin was toothy; at least, in the places where the man still had teeth. Watson’s returning smile had fewer gaps, but was no less predatory. 

He fingered the few remaining notes in his pocket. Their brothers were already in the clutches of the gambler facing him; he would have to wager the lot if he wanted to recoup his losses. He could ill-afford to lose more, but frankly, he had lost more than he could afford already. He took a deep breath and began to pull out the last of his cash. In for a penny…. 

“Papa!” Before he could place his bet, a small girl flung herself bodily into his arms. “I found you!”

Startled, Watson set the child down to look at her. She was about eight or nine, with brown hair and blue eyes, wearing a plain but presentable dress. He’d never seen her before in his life.

“Wh—”

“Mama sent me to fetch you home.”

“But I don’t—”

She threw her arms around him again, clutched him firmly about the neck and hissed in his ear, “Mister ‘Olmes says to come at once.”

Holmes? 

Watson still did not know his new flatmate well, but what he did know was… intriguing. The man was eccentric beyond the pale and often annoying, but there was no denying his brilliance. They had begun sharing stories of their pasts of an evening, and Watson found himself fascinated by Holmes’s cases. 

Could it be that he had a new case, and wished for Watson to accompany him? After all, Watson had made no secret of his interest in Holmes’s work, and the consulting detective seemed pleased and flattered by the attention. Surely it was not outside the realm of possibility that he might want Watson’s assistance, perhaps on a medical aspect. The thought was, he had to admit, a pleasing and flattering one.

In any case, the girl who was nigh strangling him was insistent. “Now!” she said in an urgent whisper.

“Right, then.” He patted the child’s head. With a huff of relief, she released him.

“Sorry, old man,” he said to the gambler. “We’ll have to finish this another time.”

The gambler’s grin was gone, replaced with an irritated frown, but the money he'd won thus far seemed to console him. “Right, Gov’nor. Anytime, it’ll be a pleasure.”

“Come on!” The girl tugged on Watson’s hand, and prattling on about how late they were going to be, she led him out of the alleyway. 

They emerged onto the main street and turned right. When they were out of sight of the alley, she dropped his hand and stopped chattering. Watson was about to say something, but then he saw Holmes was there, leaning insouciantly against a lamp post. 

“‘Ere he is,” the girl said, brisk and business-like. Holmes nodded. 

“Well done, Annie. Thank you.”

Annie blushed and giggled. “Thank _you_ , sir. It’s the most beautiful dress I ever had.” She smoothed her hands along the front of her frock, gave a quick curtsey, and ran off. 

“What was that all that about?” Watson asked as they began heading in the opposite direction.

“You remember my Irregulars? Annie is Wiggins’s sister. Clever girl.”

“You paid for her services with a dress?”

To Watson’s amazement, Holmes blushed almost as brightly as Annie had. “Well, she had to look the part of your daughter, or the ploy would never have worked. Besides, it will come in handy for future jobs; something in the way of a disguise. An investment, if you will.” 

“Right.” If Holmes did not want to admit to what was clearly an act of charity, Watson was not going to press him. “Why send the child for me, anyway?”

“Because, my dear fellow, that chap you were so willingly handing your money to, his name is Robert Billings. ‘Robbing Robbie’ and I are well-acquainted. His games are all rigged, and as I like sharing the Baker Street flat with you, I deemed it necessary to ensure that you will continue to pay your share of the rent. However, if I had set foot in that alley myself, his accomplice Wallace would have recognised me and your throat would have been slit in a heartbeat.” 

“An accomplice, eh?” There had been several clusters of men and boys nearby. He had noted one in particular who had idly watched their game. Apparently he wasn’t as idle as he had appeared.

“Wallace is as ruthless a criminal as you are ever likely to meet, but he has three daughters whom he dotes on.”

“Ah. Hence Annie.”

“Yes. She happened to be passing by, quite fortuitous. A quick dash into a nearby shop—” Holmes waved a flourish in the air. 

“I see. So you were rescuing me from Billings and Wallace.”

“And from yourself as well, in a manner of speaking.” 

Holmes was, Watson thought, entirely too pleased with himself.

“I am not helpless, you know. I am perfectly capable of defending myself,” he said with some asperity.

“Oh, no doubt, no doubt. I did not mean to imply you could not take on the likes of ten Wallaces. And a dozen Billingses, besides.”

“Now you’re just being a bastard.” 

The words were out before Watson realised he had said them. Horrified, he made to apologise when Holmes began to laugh heartily.

“Your health _is_ much improved, Doctor, as is your spirit.” He sounded positively delighted, and it was Watson’s turn to blush.

After they had strolled in companionable silence for a few minutes, Holmes said, “You know, if you enjoy the thrill of the wager that much, you might wish to place your bets on something a bit more exciting than a game of loaded dice.”

“Such as?”

“Such as—” He stopped and pointed to a building. 

“The Punchbowl. I should bet on a boxing match?”

Not just any match. One of _my_ matches.”

“You? You fight?”

“I do. _And_ I win.”

“You really are insufferable, Holmes.”

“I suppose I am,” he replied, laughing again, and this time Watson joined him.

“You know, when Annie said you wanted me to come, I hoped it was because you needed my help on one of your cases.” Again, he spoke without thinking, placing another wager he could ill-afford to lose. 

Holmes paused and looked at him. The intense, searching gaze was somewhat disconcerting, but since there was nothing for it, Watson faced the scrutiny without flinching. In for a penny, in for a pound.

Finally, Holmes’s lips quirked. 

“How very remarkable that you should say that, Doctor. In fact, there _is_ a little matter that has been brought to my attention; a trivial case, but there are some singular points of interest. Scotland Yard is baffled, naturally, but we should be able to make all things clear in short order….”

As he spoke, Holmes linked his arm into Watson’s and they continued walking in the direction of home.


End file.
